


Code Ghost

by Rainbowfootsteps



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chatting & Messaging, Computers, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 01:39:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11772792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowfootsteps/pseuds/Rainbowfootsteps
Summary: There's an old, disconnected computer in the basement. And Diana wants to talk.





	Code Ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Homestuck](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/6635) by Andrew Hussie. 



> Yoooo so guess who started reading homestuck - this fic is ((probably pretty obviously from the format)) inspired by it
> 
> Idk if i'll do any proper fanfic for it tho bc im like, a decade late to the fandom :\

My hands hovered over the keyboard. It was so old that the keys were no longer readable - worn away by hours of mindless tapping, lost to the dusts of time. I shouldn’t be doing this. The monitor’s curved screen stared blankly at me.

I reached forward and turned on the computer. A painful whirring noise started, but after a tense moment the old artifact finally chugged to life. Usually one would expect Windows or something to show up, and demand your password. Not so. I swallowed as the screen stayed black - save for a single blinking green line.

_> Good Morning _

I glanced at the digital clock beside me. It was midnight.

> it’s nighttime   
> what timezone are you in?

I typed back.

_> England! :) _

My palms were sweaty. It could be because I was in the basement in the height of summer. Or it could be that I was talking to a fucking ghost.

_> It’s been ages _

I’d checked so many times. I’d turned off the router, restarted the decrepit old machine - but nothing got rid of it. Her?

> yeah, sorry about that school’s been crazy

I typed slowly. This old thing didn’t even have a messaging application on it! The only conclusion I could come to was a ghost. Like, I was a medium or something. It scared the shit out of me. But I couldn’t just leave her! What if she was lonely?

_> I went to the zoo today _

> with anyone?

_> Yeah, It was a school trip _

Diana, 16 years old, English. The same information returned every time I questioned her - it. Her. I’d only talked to her twice before. I was starting to wish I’d never booted up this shitty old computer on a whim.

> hey D

_> Yeah? _

> why do you talk to me?

_> I like you, silly! _

> but why did you choose me in the first place?

She didn’t answer right away. I held my breath, watching the green line slowly flash. My eyes felt dry, strained from the lack of light in the room, but I couldn’t look away.

_> I didn’t choose you _

> then why are we talking

_> You were… Assigned to me. I’m not allowed to talk about it can we talk about something else _   
_> I saw a cool flamingo at the zoo _

> hey you can’t just drop this!  
> what do you mean assigned

_> It’s a school project, okay? _   
_> I’m not supposed to tell you this, but… _   
_> I’m from the future. _

I chuckled. Then I stopped - why was that so ludicrous? A moment ago I thought she was a ghost. I rubbed my temples; I almost wanted to go upstairs and retreat to bed. At least my dreams might make sense. Instead I returned my attention to the computer’s glare. The future? 

> how far

_> Ok well I can’t tell you that _   
_> But you’re part of a history project _   
_> To be honest it’s been hard doing my work because you don’t talk very often _

> oh sorry I didn’t know you didn’t tell me

_> Touche. _

I smiled a little. At least the future had a sense of humour.

> so why me?

The green line blinked. There was no response for ten seconds, twenty seconds, a minute. I glanced behind me, the hairs on my neck rising. Was Diana gone?

_> You’re from an important part of history _   
_> We’re… Supposed to talk to people before an event _

> oh, cool  
> what kind of event

Radio silence. 

> D are you there

I started to type again, but another message popped up.

_> A big one _   
_> I want to tell you, but _   
_> You won’t want to hear it _

I felt a chill run down my spine.

> what kind  
> diana tell me what kind of event

This time I waited five minutes for a response. All I could do was sit there, captivated by the blinking green on the screen. I felt trapped by it, like even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to move from where I was.

_> A war _

A short message blinked onto the screen. 

_> Nuclear, and… Fatal _

> what do you mean fatal

I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest.

> fatal to who

Nothing for thirty agonising seconds.

_> I have to go _   
_> I’m handing in the paper in three days _   
_> I hope I get to talk to you again before then _

I didn’t even have time to type a response. As if it were sentient, the computer clicked off, the crackling of the monitor the only noise in the now dark and painfully empty room. My mind was swirling. War? What the hell did she mean by fatal?

Then my eyes went wide. My breath hitched in my throat.

There was a loud rumbling coming from outside.


End file.
